Of Cross Bows and (not so) Comforting Partners
by SabbyStarlight
Summary: For all y'all who have been wanting some hurt Jack from me, here ya go!


**Hey y'all! Long time, no see! Sorry it's been a little while since my last fic, on top of a full course load of classes this semester and a 30 hour work week, I decided to add to the chaos and get a puppy! Her name is Cairo (yes, I know, we aren't supposed to talk about Cairo but we can this one.) She is tiny and absolutely adorable and so snuggly. And she is currently asleep on my shoulder as I do homework (and by homework I mean write MacGyver fanfiction but she doesn't have to know that) which is why it's taken me a little while to get this done! Anyway, her pic is my new profile pic if anyone wants to see her, if not: On with the story!**

 **Because I have had a lot of people as for it, it's Jack's turn this time (Sorry pal, I didn't go easy on ya either.) And Mac driving is my new favorite thing.**

Angus MacGyver was not exactly what you would call a comforting person. He was able to tell when someone was upset or hurting, and if it was a problem that he could fix he saw what needed to be done and he did it. He just wasn't good at offering a comforting hand or soothing word when the occasion called for it. That was the one downfall of his ability to compartmentalize all thoughts and deal with the issue with his special brand of level-headedness and maturity.

Sure, that meant that he wasn't going to freak out when a mission went south or lose his cool when things in the field got a little too intense, both of which happened a lot in his line of work. It wasn't normally a problem since he was usually the one who ended up hurt anyway and what he lacked in comforting skills, Jack more than made up for. Whether it was a hand, steady on a shoulder, grounding through the pain, or telling one of his long-winded stories with no real purpose other than his voice offering a welcome distraction, Jack was good with people. Mac, not so much. So, on the rare occasion that Jack was the one hurt, Mac found himself feeling a little bit lost.

Now, with Mac behind the wheel of their SUV, driving through the maze of twisting dirt roads somewhere in Namibia, his partner passed out in the seat beside him with an arrow from the crossbow of the drug lord they were currently running from lodged through his thigh, Mac was feeling more than a little bit lost.

"Come on Riley, pick up." He muttered as he dialed her number with one hand and attempted to navigate the treacherous road with the other.

"Mac. You guys were supposed to go radio silen…" She began but Mac cut her off.

"Jack's hurt. I need you to find the nearest hospital and tell them we're coming in. Then I need you to track our GPS because I don't have a damn clue where we are and I'll need directions to the hospital. Also they need to send in another team to take down this guy cause we're out. We're not gonna be able to finish this one." Mac spoke into his phone.

"He's that bad?" Riley asked quietly over the sound of her typing on her keyboard.

"Yeah. It's not good." Mac admitted.

"Okay," He heard her take a steadying breath. "The nearest hospital, looks like it's about thirty minutes from your location right now if you continue going East… Can he make it that long?"

"Course I can." A gruff voice sounded from the passenger seat.

"I'll call you back, Ri." Mac said as he ended the call, all his attention focused on his partner who was sitting perfectly still, eyes tightly squeezed shut.

"Mac? Two questions." He paused to take a breath. "One, why the hell are you driving? Two, why's it feel like my leg's on fire?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the arrow sticking out of each side of your leg there can answer both of those questions." Mac replied, maneuvering the vehicle around a tight curve in the road.

"Did you say arrow?" Jack asked, cracking his eyes open and staring at his younger partner.

"Look for yourself if you don't believe me." Mac shrugged. "You can't miss it."

He realized a second too late that encouraging Jack to take a look probably wasn't the best advice he could have given as he watched the color quickly drain out of his partner's face and his eyes widen as he took in the sight of his impaled leg. "Mac?" He asked quietly, his voice thin with pain.

"Yeah, man, I know…" Mac started.

"Mac there is an arrow. Through my leg." Jack interrupted, his voice quickly rising to panic.

"I know. You're gonna be fine. We're on our way to the hospital right now." Mac assured.

"Mac, get it out!" Jack yelled.

"Jack. Look at me." Mac ordered, looking away from the road to try to meet his partner's eyes. "Jack. Do NOT touch it."

"Mac! Get it out!" Jack repeated, leaning forward and reaching towards his leg.

"Jack!" Mac threw his left arm across the car and against Jack's broad chest, stopping the movement of his arms in the process. "Leave. It. Alone."

"Mac," Jac whined, tossing his head back against his seat.

"You're hurting, I know." Mac said, removing his arm. "You're hurting, and you're probably not thinking clearly, but we can't take it out right now, you know that. You know how bad of an idea that would be."

Jack sighed but nodded. "Blood loss."

"Yeah. Severe blood loss." Mac agreed. "Not to mention muscle trauma and tissue damage and the chances of severing an artery are multiplied tenfold. And it would hurt like hell."

That got Jack to crack a pained smile. "Think we're already at the 'hurts like hell' stage, pal."

Mac turned his head and grinned back a sad smile. "Hang in there. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"Car." Jack said quickly, tearing his eyes from Mac's.

"What?" Mac asked, confused, scanning Jack's face for any signs of head trauma he had missed earlier, wondering if Jack had hit his head when the arrow took him down.

Jack lunged sideways, wincing as the movement tugged on his injured leg, and grabbed the steering wheel, pulling their SUV back into their own lane just as an oncoming car drove past them. "Car." He said again as he collapsed back into his seat with a pained huff.

"Woah. Sorry." Mac said, focusing his eyes back on the road.

"Pull over. I'm driving." Jack ordered.

"You can't drive!" Mac insisted.

"Yeah, well apparently, Crash, you can't neither!" Jack scowled, keeping his eyes on the twisting road ahead of them looking for any future dangers. "I can shoot with my left hand if I have too, no reason I can't drive with my left leg."

"Shut up. You're not driving, end of discussion. And keep pressure on that." Mac said, pointing towards Jack's leg.

"How am I gonna keep pressure on it, genius? There's an arrow stuck clear through it! I think that's doin' a pretty damn good job of keeping pressure on it." Jack growled.

"Okay, well, stay still then. You're… leaking." He said, glancing over at the ever-growing red stain on the seat.

"Eyes on the road." Jack reminded the younger man. "You know where we're goin'?"

"Nope. But Riley does." Mac said, reaching for his phone before Jack took it out of his hand, sending the blonde a look that was clearly meant to remind Mac to keep both hands on the wheel.

"Hey Riley. You're on speaker." Mac said after Riley answered.

"Jack? You alright?" She asked.

"Will be once we get this arrow out of my leg." Jack answered with a wince as he shifted in his seat. "That is if Mac's driving doesn't kill me first!" He said, glaring at his partner who had let the vehicle drift off to the berm of the road.

"Wait. There's an arrow. In your LEG?!" Bozer screeched from somewhere in the background. "Like a real, Robin Hood type arrow? In your leg."

"Yeah and it freakin' hurts." Jack answered. "Ri, please tell me we're close to a hospital? One with good drugs?"

"According to the GPS, Mac take the next left about half a mile up the road by the way, you're about twenty minutes out." Riley promised him. "They're expecting you."

"Great. We need a surgeon to be on standby just in case and a couple bags of A- if they have it available, if not I can give a transfusion once we get there." Mac ordered, thankful that he was a universal donor.

"I'll let them know." She assured Mac. "A new team is shipping out in two hours, to finish up so you guys don't have to worry about the mission. And there should be road signs pointing you the rest of the way to the hospital, but if you have any trouble just call."

"I will. Thank's Riley." Mac said before motioning for Jack that he could end the call.

"And let us know how things are going once you get to the hospital." She instructed.

"Of course. Talk to you soon." Jack ended the call to the sounds of Bozer exclaiming "Dude! An arrow?!" In the background.

"You alright?" Mac asked softly once Jack had hung up the phone.

"Not really." Jack admitted. "But I guess I'm hangin' in as good as can be expected."

Mac nodded, taking in the way Jack had his good leg braced firmly against the floorboard and his head pressed tightly against the headrest of his seat attempting to minimize jolts from the dirt road, the white skin pulled taut between fisted knuckles, the way the lines around his closed eyes were deepened in the way that only happened when Jack was in serious pain or laughing. It definitely wasn't the latter.

Five minutes passed in silence before Mac's worry increased. Dealing with pain was pretty much an everyday occurrence in Jack Dalton's life, and Mac had been around him long enough to know that the only time he needed to really be concerned about his partner's injuries was when Jack stopped complaining about them. A silent Jack was a seriously hurting Jack.

"We're almost there." Mac offered, trying to get his partner speaking.

"This sucks, Mac." He replied. "When was the last time either of us was hurt bad enough we couldn't finish out the job? We even saw Cairo through till the end! This one was supposed to be simple!"

"Those are always the ones that go south the fastest." Mac reminded him.

"I mean, who even uses a crossbow anymore?" Jack asked in frustration.

"Well actually, Bozer and I read this article a few weeks ago about how purchase and usage of traditional bows and arrows as weapons has increased substantially since the uprising of The Hunger Games franchise." Mac said. "He's considering putting one in his movie."

"Hey Mac, I love you and all, kid. But I really don't care."

Mac smiled. "Sorry. Just trying to distract you."

"By talking about the weapon that is currently still lodged in my leg? Not the best distraction." Jack informed him.

"Yeah… My bad." Mac glanced across the car. "I'm really not good at this. I'm usually the one hurting in the passenger seat." He reminded his partner.

"Yeah well I'm not sayin' I like that situation any better but I ain't plannin' on makin' this a regular habit either, now." Jack drawled and Mac couldn't hold back smiling as he made a mental note that not only did Jack's accent get thicker when he was tired, it got just as strong when he was hurting.

"Well for what it's worth" Mac continued, "I'm not exactly crazy about being on this side of the coin myself. It's almost easier to just be the one hurting and let you do all the work."

Jack smiled. "How 'bout we both just try not to get hurt for a while? That could be a nice change."

"Deal." Mac agreed. "Hey, you see that sign? Hospital, three miles."

"Three miles." Jack repeated with relief. "I think we can make it three more miles." He closed his eyes and fell silent again until their vehicle hit a bump, jolting his leg and causing a loud hiss to escape his lips.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'm sorry. There was this rock and I didn't see it until it was too late." Mac apologised over and over again.

"Kid I know you're just tryin' to help but sayin' sorry ain't gonna make it hurt any less. Just drive, carefully, and stop worryin' about making me feel better. I'm not gonna feel better til they get this damn arrow out of my leg." Jack growled.

"Actually taking it out is gonna hurt way worse." Mac argued. "You'll probably be asking them to just leave it in once they start."

"Seriously, Mac? REALLY not helping." Jack whined.

"Sorry." Mac apologised again as he pulled into the parking lot of the small hospital. "At least we're here." Both men let out a sigh of relief as they saw the attendant waiting by the door with a wheelchair.

"Agent Dalton?" He asked as Mac climbed out of the SUV.

"Passenger seat. Big guy with the arrow through his leg." Mac said as he followed the man around the car to Jack's door.

"Don't!" Jack ordered as the nurse began to reach into the vehicle to pull him out. "Don't touch me. I'm fine, just, let me do it."

Mac shook his head at his friend's stubbornness. After a few seconds of watching him struggle, Mac stepped in. "Okay, stop." He ignored the older man's glares of protest and winces of pain as he twisted him carefully sideways in the seat. "Good leg on the ground." Mac instructed, nodding when Jack complied. "Now brace your hands on my shoulders, just like that, yeah." Mac placed his own hands on either side of Jack's waist. "Now just step down on that one leg and turn around, the chair's right behind you."

Jack let out a pained grunt as he collapsed into the seat. "I want this thing out of my leg. Now." He said, looking up at Mac.

Mac clapped him on the shoulder before moving out of the way and letting the orderly take control of the wheelchair. "That makes two of us, buddy. That makes two of us."

He was allowed to stay with Jack's through the doctors giving him the long-promised shot of pain killers. He was there to hear the older man's scream as the metal arrow head was snapped off the staff so they could bring in a portable x-ray machine, and was by Jack's side when the doctor declared that Mac was correct and they would have to operate to completely remove the arrow. Mac's finally realized just how much pain his partner was in when he didn't even protest the surgery.

Three long hours later, Mac found himself down one pint of blood, pacing the waiting room floor and picking at the bandage covering the needle mark on his arm. He had never been fond of his name, but when a nurse in bright blue scrubs came into the room and called for Angus MacGyver, it was the best name he had ever heard.

"He's going to be fine." She assured the young man, seeing the worry on his frantic face. "The surgery was a success. He'll need another follow up surgery in a few days to repair some of the muscle that took the brunt of the damage but he requested to be shipped back to the states for any non-emergency operations." Mac nodded, knowing that the Phoenix Foundation was so efficient that the surgery was already scheduled with the best doctors in LA. "Barring no complications, we'd like to keep him here overnight and then if he feels up to it a nurse will accompany the two of you on your flight back home tomorrow."

"Sounds good. Thank you." Mac said, reaching out and shaking her hand. "Can I see him?"

"As soon as we get him into the private room that your superiors requested, another nurse will be down to get you." she promised. "Until then, why don't you contact his family."

Mac nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket, and did just that: He called Jack's family.

"Hey, Riley. He's out." Mac announced with a smile.

The next half hour that Mac was stuck waiting had flown by, and he found himself now sitting beside his still sleeping partner's bedside. He took in the IV's slowly dripping a steady cocktail of pain medications and antibiotics into the back of Jack's hand, the nasal cannula that he knew Jack would tear off as soon as he was conscious enough to notice it, and the bruise in the crook of the older man's arm that matched the one on Mac's arm almost exactly. The spot where his blood had been used to keep his partner alive and fighting through the operation.

The nurses had told him to expect Jack to sleep for at least a few more hours, but Jack Dalton was nothing if not stubborn, so Mac wasn't surprised to find him stirring not even twenty minutes after he had entered the room. "Jack?" He asked quietly.

"Mac?" A hoarse questioned back.

"Right here." Mac promised, gently picking up the older man's gun-callused hand and squeezing it between both of his own.

"H'spital." Jack replied, taking in his surroundings without even opening his eyes.

"Yeah man, we're in a hospital. You remember what happened?" He asked. Jack shook his head no.

"You a'ight?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Mac assured.

"All that matt'rs then." Jack said before squeezing Mac's hand and falling back asleep.

Mac didn't know that he too had fallen asleep soon after that, so he wasn't quite sure what time it was when he woke up. He was starkly aware, though, of a pair of big brown eyes that met his when he regained consciousness.

"Hey! You're looking better." Mac said with a smile as he sat up.

"Drugs." Jack reminded him, lifting up his hand and examining the IV port like it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Mac smiled when he saw the nasal cannula, sure enough, sitting on the table beside Jack's bed. "Nurses know you took that off?" He asked.

"Yup. Did it while you were sleepin'."

"You should have woken me up." Mac scolded. "How long was I out?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, few hours. You looked like you needed the rest."

"I'm not the one with the hole in my thigh and another round of surgery scheduled for tomorrow." Mac insisted.

Jack winced. "Yeah, they told me 'bout that. Guess I'm gonna be out of the game for a while, huh?"

"Looks like." Mac agreed.

"Hey, thanks, by the way. For steppin' up and taking care of me back there. It's supposed to be the other way around." Jack said around a hiss as he shifted his leg.

"No way, we take care of each other." Mac reminded him. "And I'm not sure you should even be thanking me, I suck at taking care of people."

"You did fine, from what I can remember of it." Jack assured. "I also wanted to say I'm sorry if I said anything in the car on the way here. I know I get a little grumpy when I'm hurtin'."

"Jack there was an arrow sticking through your leg. I think that entitles you to being a little grumpy." Mac teased.

"Yeah well I don't like you havin' to take care of me, let alone me being a pain in the ass to you about doin' it."

"Well what else are partners for?" Mac asked, holding out his hand for a fist bump.

Jack nodded and touched his fist against Mac's. "Hey speakin' of things partners are for, you and me, pal, we're havin' some driving lessons once I'm back up on my feet again."

 **Okay y'all ! There it is! My first Hurt Jack story! (I don't really count the little tag I did to Large Blade because it was more of a "fix-it fic" than an actual story.) What did ya'll think?! I hope it was alright, I'm not nearly as comfortable writing these guys when it's not Jack taking care of Mac so having the roles reversed felt kinda off. Also, in one of my other fics (the wisdom teeth one maybe?) I mentioned something about Jack's accent getting thicker when he's tired? That's based entirely on the fact that my friends always joke that my own southern accent comes out when I'm tired and judging from the amount of "y'alls" I drop in these A/Ns I think it gets worse when I write Jack Dalton too lol. Anyway. Hope YOU ALL (there, fixed it) enjoyed!**


End file.
